Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  Of that old woman tidings he besought, 215

  If that of such a lady shee could tellen ought.

  XXV

  Therewith she gan her passion to renew,

  And cry, and curse, and raile, and rend her heare,

  Saying, that harlott she too lately knew,

  That causd her shed so many a bitter teare, 220

  And so forth told the story of her feare.

  Much seemed he to mone her haplesse chaunce,

  And after for that lady did inquere;

  Which being taught, he forward gan advaunce

  His fair enchaunted steed, and eke his charmed launce. 225

  XXVI

  Ere long he came where Una traveild slow,

  And that wilde champion wayting her besyde:

  Whome seeing such, for dread hee durst not show

  Him selfe too nigh at hand, but turned wyde

  Unto an hil; from whence when she him spyde, 230

  By his like seeming shield her knight by name

  Shee weend it was, and towards him gan ride:

  Approching nigh, she wist it was the same,

  And with faire fearefull humblesse towards him shee came;

  XXVII

  And weeping said, ‘Ah! my long lacked lord, 235

  Where have ye bene thus long out of my sight?

  Much feared I to have bene quite abhord,

  Or ought have done, that ye displeasen might,

  That should as death unto my deare heart light:

  For since mine eie your joyous sight did mis, 240

  My chearefull day is turnd to chearelesse night,

  And eke my night of death the shadow is;

  But welcome now, my light, and shining lampe of blis.’

  XXVIII

  He thereto meeting said, ‘My dearest dame,

  Far be it from your thought, and fro my wil, 245

  To thinke that knighthood I so much should shame,

  As you to leave, that have me loved stil,

  And chose in Faery court, of meere goodwil,

  Where noblest knights were to be found on earth:

  The earth shall sooner leave her kindly skil 250

  To bring forth fruit, and make eternall derth,

  Then I leave you, my liefe, yborn of hevenly berth.

  XXIX

  ‘And sooth to say, why I lefte you so long,

  Was for to seeke adventure in straunge place,

  Where Archimago said a felon strong 255

  To many knights did daily worke disgrace;

  But knight he now shall never more deface:

  Good cause of mine excuse, that mote ye please

  Well to accept, and ever more embrace

  My faithfull service, that by land and seas 260

  Have vowd you to defend. Now then your plaint appease.’

  XXX

  His lovely words her seemd due recompence

  Of all her passed paines: one loving howre

  For many yeares of sorrow can dispence:

  A dram of sweete is worth a pound of sowre: 265

  Shee has forgott how many a woeful stowre

  For him she late endurd; she speakes no more

  Of past: true is, that true love hath no powre

  To looken backe; his eies be fixt before.

  Before her stands her knight, for whom she toyld so sore. 270

  XXXI

  Much like as when the beaten marinere,

  That long hath wandred in the ocean wide,

  Ofte soust in swelling Tethys saltish teare,

  And long time having tand his tawney hide

  With blustring breath of heaven, that none can bide, 275

  And scorching flames of fierce Orions hound,

  Soone as the port from far he has espide,

  His chearfull whistle merily doth sound,

  And Nereus crownes with cups; his mates him pledg around.

  XXXII

  Such joy made Una, when her knight she found; 280

  And eke th’ enchaunter joyous seemde no lesse

  Then the glad marchant, that does vew form ground

  His ship far come from watrie wildernesse;

  He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft deth blesse.

  So forth they past, and all the way they spent. 285

  Discoursing of her dreadful late distresse,

  In which he askt her, what the Iyon ment:

  Who told her all that fell in journey, as she went.

  XXXIII

  They had not ridden far when they might see

  One pricking towards them with hastie heat, 290

  Full strongly armd, and on a courser free,

  That through his fiersnesse fomed all with sweat,

  And the sharpe yron did for anger eat,

  When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side;

  His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threat 295

  Cruell revenge, which he in hart did hyde;

  And on his shield Sans loy in bloody lines was dyde.

  XXXIV

  When nigh he drew unto this gentle payre,

  And saw the red-crosse, which the knight did beare,

  He burnt in fire, and gan eftsoones prepare 300

  Himselfe to batteill with his couched speare.

  Loth was that other, and did faint through feare,

  To taste th’ untryed dint of deadly steele;

  But yet his lady did so well him cheare,

  That hope of new good hap he gan to feele; 305

  So bent his speare, and spurd his horse with yron heele.

  XXXV

  But that proud Paynim forward came so ferce

  And full of wrath, that with his sharphead speare

  Through vainly crossed shield he quite did perce;

  And had his staggering steed not shronke for feare, 310

  Through shield and body eke he should him beare:

  Yet so great was the puissance of his push,

  That from his sadle quite he did him beare:

  He, tombling rudely downe, to ground did rush,

  And from h is gored wound a well of bloud did gush. 315

  XXXVI

  Dismounting lightly from his loftie steed,

  He to him lept, in minde to reave his life,

  And proudly said: ‘Lo there the worthie meed

  Of him that slew Sansfoy with bloody knife!

  Henceforth his ghost, freed from repining strife, 320

  In peace may passen over Lethe lake,

  When mourning altars, purgd with enimies life,

  The black infernall Furies doen aslake:

  Life from Sansfoy thou tookst, Sansloy shall from thee take.’

  XXXVII

  There with in haste his helmet gan unlace, 325

  Till Una cride, ‘O hold that heavie hand,

  Deare sir, what ever that thou be in place!

  Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquisht stand

  Now at thy mercy: mercy not withstand:

  For he is one the truest knight alive, 330

  Though conquered now he lye on lowly land,

  And whilest him fortune favourd, fayre did thrive

  In bludy field: therefore of life him not deprive.’

  XXXVIII

  Her piteous wordes might notabate his rage,

  But, rudely rending up his helmet, would 335

  Have slayne him streight: but when he sees his age,

  And hoarie head of Archimago old,

  His hasty hand he doth amased hold,

  And, halfe ashamed, wondred at the sight:

  For that old man well knew he, though untold, 340

  In charmes and magick to have wondrous might;

  Ne ever wont in field, ne in round lists, to fight.

  XXXIX

  And said, ‘Why, Archimago, lucklesse syre,

  What doe I see? what hard mishap is this,

  That hath thee hether brought to taste mine yre? 345

  Or thine the fault, or mine t
he error is,

  In stead of foe to wound my friend amis?’

  He answered nought, but in a traunce still lay,

  And on those guilefull dazed eyes of his

  The cloude of death did sit. Which doen away, 350

  He left him lying so, ne would no lenger stay;

  XL

  But to the virgin comes; who all this while

  Amased stands, her selfe so mockt to see

  By him, who has the guerdon of his guile,

  For so misfeigning her true kinght to bee: 355

  Yet is she now in more perplexitie,

  Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold,

  From whom her booteth not at all to flie;

  Who, by her cleanly garment catching hold,

  Her from her palfrey pluckt, her visage to behold. 360

  XLI

  But her fiers servant, full of kingly aw

  And high disdaine, whenas his soveraine dame

  So rudely handled by her foe he saw,

  With gaping jawes full greedy at him came,

  And, ramping on his shield, did weene the same 365

  Have reft away with his sharp rending clawes:

  But he was stout, and lust did now inflame

  His corage more, that from his griping pawes

  He hath his shield redeemd, and forth his swerd he drawes.

  XLII

  O then too weake and feeble was the forse 370

  Of salvage beast, his puissance to withstand:

  For he was strong, and of so mightie corse,

  As ever wielded speare in warlike hand,

  And feates of armes did wisely understand.

  Eftsoones he perced through his chaufed chest 375

  With thrilling point of deadly yron brand,

  And launcht his lordly hart: with death opprest

  He ror’d aloud, whiles life forsooke his stubborne brest.

  XLIII

  Who now is left to keepe the forlorne maid

  From raging spile of lawlesse victors will? 380

  Her faithfull gard remov’d, her hope dismaid,

  Her selfe a yielded pray to save or spill.

  He now, lord of the field, his pride to fill,

  With foule reproches and disdaineful spight

  Her vildly entertaines, and, will or nill, 385

  Beares her away upon his courser light:

  Her prayers nought prevaile; his rage is more of might.

  XLIV

  And all the way, with great lamenting paine,

  And piteous plaintes, she filleth his dull eares,

  That stony hart could riven have in twaine, 390

  And all the way she wetts with flowing teares:

  But he, enrag’d with rancor, nothing heares.

  Her servile beast yet would not leave her so,

  But followes her far of, ne ought he feares,

  To be partaker of her wandring woe. 395

  More mild, in beastly kind, then that her beastly foe.

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Canto IV

  To sinfull House of Pryde Duessa

  Guydes the falthfull kinght,

  Where, brothers death to wreak, Sansjoy

  Doth chaleng him to fight

  I

  YOUNG knight what ever, that dost armes professe,

  And through long labours huntest after fame,

  Beware of fraud, beware of ficklenesse,

  In choice, and chaunge, of thy deare loved dame,

  Least thou of her believe too lightly blame, 5

  And rash misweening doe thy hart remove:

  For unto knight there is no greater shame,

  Then lightnesse and inconstancie in love:

  That doth this Redcrosse Knights ensample plainly prove.

  II

  Who, after that he had faire Una lorne, 10

  Through light misdeeming of her loialtie,

  And false Duessa in her sted had borne,

  Called Fidess’, and so supposd to be,

  Long with her traveild, till at last they see

  A goodly building, bravely garnished; 15

  The house of mightie prince it seemd to be;

  And towards it a broad high way that led,

  All bare through peoples feet, which thether traveiled.

  III

  Great troupes of people traveild thetherward

  Both day and night, of each degree and place; 20

  But few returned, having scaped hard,

  With balefull beggery, or foule disgrace;

  Which ever after in most wretched case,

  Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay.

  Thether Duessa badd him bend his pace: 25

  For she is wearie of the toilsom way,

  And also nigh consumed is the lingring day.

  IV

  A stately pallace built of squared bricke,

  Which cunningly was without morter laid,

  Whose wals were high, but nothing strong nor thick, 30

  And golden foile all over them displaid,

  That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid:

  High lifted up were many loftie towres,

  And goodly galleries far over laid,

  Full of faire windowes and delightful bowres; 35

  And on the top a diall told the timely howres.

  V

  It was a goodly heape for to behould,

  And spake the praises of the workmans witt;

  But full great pittie, that so faire a mould

  Did on so weake foundation ever sitt: 40

  For on a sandie hill, that still did flitt

  And fall away, it mounted was full hie,

  That every breath of heaven shaked itt;

  And all the hinder partes, that few could spie,

  Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. 45

  VI

  Arrived there, they passed in forth right;

  For still to all the gates stood open wide:

  Yet charge of them was to a porter hight,

  Cald Malvenö, who entrance none denide:

  Thence to the hall, which was on every side 50

  With rich array and costly arras dight:

  Infinite sortes of people did abide

  There waiting long, to win the wished sight

  Of her, that was the lady of that pallace bright.

  VII

  By them they passe, all gazing on them round, 55

  And to the presence mount; whose glorious vew

  Their frayle amazed senses did confound:

  In living princes court none ever knew

  Such endlesse richesse, and so sumpteous shew;

  Ne Persia selfe, the nourse of pompous pride, 60

  Like ever saw. And there a noble crew

  Of lords and ladies stood on every side,

  Which, with their presence fayre the place much beautifide.

  VIII

  High above all a cloth of state was spred,

  And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day, 65

  On which there sate, most brave embellished

  With royall robes and gorgeous array,

  A mayden queene, that shone as Titans ray,

  In glistring gold and perelesse pretious stone;

  Yet her bright blazing beautie did assay 70

  To dim the brightnesse of her glorious throne,

  As envying her selfe, that too exceeding shone:

  IX

  Exceeding shone, like Phœbus fayrest childe,

  That did presume his fathers fyrie wayne,

  And flaming mouthes of steedes unwonted wilde, 75

  Through highest heaven with weaker hand to rayne:

  Proud of such glory and advancement vayne,

  While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen,

  He leaves the welkin way most beaten playne,

  And, rapt with whirling wheeles, inflames the skyen 80

/>   With fire not made to burne, but fayrely for to shyne.

  X

  So proud she shyned in her princely state,

  Looking to heaven, for earth she did disdayne,

  And sitting high, for lowly she did hate:

  Lo! underneath her scornefull feete, was layne 85

  A dreadfull dragon with an hideous trayne,

  And in her hand she held a mirrhour bright,

  Wherein her face she often vewed fayne,

  And in her selfe-lov’d semblance tooke delight;

  For she was wondrous faire, as any living wight. 90

  XI

  Of griesly Pluto she the daughter was,

  And sad Proserpina, the queene of hell;

  Yet did she thinke her pearelesse worth to pas

  That parentage, with pride so did she swell,

  And thundring Jove, that high in heaven doth dwell, 95

  And wield the world, she claymed for her syre,

  Or if that any else did Jove excell:

  For to the highest she did still aspyre,

  Or, if ought higher were then that, did it desyre.

  XII

  And proud Lucifera men did her call, 100

  That made her selfe a queene, and crownd to be;

  Yet rightfull kingdome she had none at all,

  Ne heritage of native soveraintie,

  But did usurpe with wrong and tyrannie

  Upon the scepter, which she now did hold: 105

  Ne ruld her realme with lawes, but policie,

  And strong advizement of six wisards old,

  That with their counsels bad her kingdome did uphold.

  XIII

  Soone as the Elfin knight in presence came,

  And false Duessa, seeming lady fayre, 110

  A gentle husher, Vanitie by name,

  Made rowme, and passage for them did prepaire:

  So goodly brought them to the lowest stayre

  Of her high throne, where they, on humble knee

  Making obeysaunce, did the cause declare, 115

  Why they were come, her roiall state to see,

  To prove the wide report of her great majestee.

  XIV

  With loftie eyes, halfe loth to looke so lowe,

  She thancked them in her disdainefull wise,

  Ne other grace vouchsafed them to showe 120

  Of princesse worthy; scarse them bad arise.

  Her lordes and ladies all this while devise

  Themselves to setten forth to straungers sight:

  Some frounce their curled heare in courtly guise,

  Some prancke their ruffes, and others trimly dight 125

  Their gay attyre: each others greater pride does spight.

  XV

  Goodly they all that knight doe entertayne,

  Right glad with him to have increast their crew;

  But to Duess’ each one himselfe did payne

  All kindnesse and faire courtesie to shew; 130